My last suicide attempt

50

It was the rain that awoke me during the early hours of the morning, interrupting the vivid dreams of my mind intertwining with Xian’s memories, lingering on the ones when he was feeding. Such a killer instinct, and such pleasure given off of drawing a human’s blood unwillingly, made me sick. But… even I could feel the urge, the lust when I saw – from his eyes – the blood seeping from delicious-looking throats.

Lightning washed across the room, and I counted up to three before an earth-shaking thunder followed. I sighed, sliding out of the bed and pulling back the curtains to face the storm outside. It was September the 30th now, still vaguely summer, so why should such a storm be here?

It makes you think what else is changing…

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

I sat at the oak-wood desk in my study, a pencil in hand and paper in front of me. I wanted to concentrate, I wanted to write something, or draw, or in someway express this… “emotion”, but all I could hear was the storm. Raging, furious, as if it was screaming at me that to feel an emotion was wrong. Especially since I was a vampire. The thoughts of George had resurrected the switch I had shoved away, possibly never needing to bring it out – never needing to turn on the emotions ever again. But I was wrong. So very, very wrong. For I felt something…

Anger, at myself for what I had done: such a cruelty to my own flesh and blood, what a monster I was. And still am.

I stared down at the black journal that had indeed belonged to my brother when he was alive. He had spilled his thoughts and feelings in this small, oh-so fragile book, and I relished at the thought of me being mentioned on every single page. Never in a horrible way, and he never portrayed doubt of any kind. I flicked through it for the seventh time tonight, re-reading the notes he’d written, and grazing my eyes over his creative drawings. I so envied that he had such a hidden a side that I had never gotten to see and I regretted never pestering him about it when he was alive.

“That’s what you get for being a monster, Xian.” My voice muttered darkly.

I shook my head, my eyes fixed on a drawing. The drawing that never ceased to amaze me every single time I looked at it – a drawing of a locket. So measly to humans, they would never understand that this be the locket belonging to… her. He had drawn it out of fascination, the words “KH” engraved sharply on the front. Every little detail was included in his drawing, the lighting, everything.

And he had made a secret out of such a beautiful talent, hidden it from us all.

I turned the page, and smiled slightly, unwillingly perhaps. It was a page of doodles, but not your average – on the thick parchment sat a sketch of fangs, a pair of green eyes, the locket again and a wine glass over flowing with red liquid that I knew better than to call wine. I chuckled, somewhat amused by my brother’s choice of doodles. It had possibly never struck him that these be so important to a vampire… to me.

Or maybe it had. I would never know, because I would never get the chance to ask.

“And whose fault is that?” My voice said.

I slammed the book shut just as another struck of lightning flashed through the window, followed by a rumbling thunder. Something on the book caught my eye, and I looked down to see a drop of thick, red blood dotted in the centre on the back of the black book. I frowned, and touched my cheek bone, bringing my hand away the second I felt the liquid.

Crying…

I was crying.

I had not cried since the night I had killed my brother. Slaughtered my family and friends…

I brushed my thumb across the dot of blood on the black back of the book, hoping to wipe it away. Silly mistake, for it merely smudged across the page. I winced as it did so, a strange feeling of regret erupting deep inside me as I ruined his book. The book I had cherished for one hundred and fifty-three years.

As the blood began to dry, words began to rise to the surface, having been so deeply carved into the back of the book that it was unseen even to a vampire’s eye. Not without dried blood triggering it. Having stopped “crying” now, I focused on what the words said, narrowing my eyes against the light to get a better look.

The lightning struck again, washing over the black book to reveal the words:

‘30th September 2010:

Go into the vortex.’

“Go into the vortex…” I murmured. I sat back in my chair, staring out at the thunderous storm as I pondered the words carved into my dead brother’s book. It was certainly George’s handwriting, but how would he know anything regarding the twenty-first century?

Go into the vortex…

Hell, it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I was sitting on the windowsill again with my knees brought up to my chest and my arms wrapped almost protectively around my legs, my head leaning against the window as the rain poured harder outside. All the while, I could still see the chain of thoughts from Xian’s mind replaying in my head.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Running.

That was all he could really do – run. And go far, far away from any perception of civilization for a long time. But for how long could he run? How long could he go alone?

Yes, alone.

The word echoed in his head.

Because he was truly all alone. She had left him once more just before his time of need, possibly knowing what was about to come.

And father.

If his father were here, what would he say to all of this? Of course he’d be ashamed, sickened, disgusted that his own son be a bloodsucker. The once-partner of the very bloodsucker his father had hunted for two years straight. But his father wasn’t here, because he was one of a thousand that he’d killed that night…

The myths say vampires cannot feel anything. The myths say vampires are heartless, emotionless and uncaring. Yes, in a way, that can be fairly true. Vampires have no need for emotions, it be like a mere on/off switch to them. They have emotions there to feel, the guilt, the heartbreak, the grief – it’s all there if they want to feel it. But it could never be as easy as to turn it on and off as they say. No, for the feeling of regret, despair… death, it lingered in his chest and mind. Psychologically, emotionally, physically… he was all alone.

The trees surrounding him curved atop his head, blocking out the moonlight’s rays from beating down on him in the cold, pitch black night. Afar, he could hear the chiming of the clock tower in the centre of the town chiming one in the morning. The birds lay in slumber while the owls ahead hooted, and whispers in the wind whipped around his ears, taunting his auditory senses.

“You did well,” the winds whispered.

“I did nothing but kill the ones I love!” He growled back, still running away from the town.

“You did well,” the winds repeated.

Yes. He did well… for a newborn.

“They are coming,” A male’s voice sounded in a cold tone nearby.

He whipped around, eyes scanning the darkness. He saw the silhouette of a figure standing in front of the bushes just one hundred metres away, and what with no light to reflect upon the man’s face, he knew nothing to his identity.

“Who are coming? Who are you?” He asked urgently.

“The Others are coming.”

He froze cold in his tracks. The Others…

When he squinted into the darkness once more in the direction where the shadowy figure had been stood, he saw nothing.

He was alone once again, and the Others were on their way.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I jerked upright on the windowsill, rolling off onto the floor with a loud crash. Pain rippled across my ribs, and I groaned as a headache started to develop. I took in three big gulps full of air as if I hadn’t been breathing for over an hour, if that was possible. Which it probably wasn’t, unless you were a fish-human or something. I rolled over on the floor, my eyes scanning the room for the alarm clock, for the time. A hazy light was beginning to shine in through the window, and by hazy I mean foggy, the rain still falling outside.

I could hear ticking, like a clock, only they were ticks that were too slow to be a clock of any sort. Besides, I didn’t have an actual clock in my room, I only had a digital, silent alarm. Where the hell was it coming from?

“Counting down. It’s counting down, princess,” My voice purred.

I ignored the voice, finding the wooden floor comfortable in my time of loneliness, my inner self yearning for company.

“Did you try to walk and chew gum again, princess?” Xian’s voice sounded from the door way, and I glared up at him.

Any company, except his.

“No, actually, your stupid mind tricks are playing up on me. Those visions of yours!” I murmured, trying to haul myself up. He was suddenly in front of me, holding his hand out for me to take. I took it, and he pried me up, a hand around my waist, holding me steady.

“What did you do to my head?” I asked groggily.

“I didn’t do anything,” he retorted, letting go of my waist. “I showed you ONE vision, and one only. Why?”

“Well I’ve had two.” I sighed, falling onto my bed, staring up at the white-wash ceiling. He sat on the bed next to me, looking down at me with an eyebrow raised. His dark hair was brushed across his face as per usual, his emerald eyes set intently on reading my facial expression.

“What was the second one about?” He asked, his tone stressed.

“Just after… the first vision. You were running, and somebody in the forest told you that The Others were on their way.” I sighed. “Who the hell are ‘The Others’?”

“Certain creatures you never wish to meet,” he said darkly. “But you might do today. Get dressed, we need to go quite soon. We’ve got a time limit. Up, princess, go, move!” He ordered loudly.

I moaned, but he pushed me off the bed. I stood up, and scrambled over into the bathroom. Once inside, I brushed my teeth and then stared at my make up bag.

“Do I need to dress up nice to meet them?” I called out to Xian.

“Yes.” He said back.

With a sigh, I shut the door and turned back to the mirror above the basin. I put on some mascara, and a hint of dark eye shadow, and a touch of foundation to my overly-blushed cheeks. With that, I went back into my bedroom and straight over to my wardrobe, skimming through my dresses.

“Gothic? Summery? What type of dress do I wear?” I asked Xian.

My heart jumped when he was suddenly next to me again, making me jump. He reached past me, and eyes scanning all the dresses I owned, a tugged at a hanger. When he managed to pry it from inside the wardrobe, he presented it to me with the biggest smirk he could possibly possess. The dress he was holding was a summer dress, with a grey top that lasted down to the waist, where a long black ribbon wrapped right around it. Below the black ribbon, was the skirt, which was white with large black polka dots and black and white roses scattered across it.

“That is probably #2 in my top 10 shortest dresses I own.” I muttered.

“Oh, I know,” Xian winked. “It’s hot. Plus, it’s nice and I like it.”

“It’s freezing outside!”

“You won’t feel the cold, princess.” He smiled a bittersweet smile. “Now, are you going to put it on, or am I going to have to undress you myself and put it on you?”

“I’m SO not wearing that to a leech convention.”

“You want me to undress you?” He said, coming closer. “I don’t mind. I’d rather enjoy it, but it’s your choice.”

“FINE! I’ll wear the stupid dress!” I hissed, snatching the dress from him. He smirked at me as I rushed into the bathroom, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at him. I changed quickly in the bathroom, not enjoying the tense atmosphere, knowing that Xian was standing right on the other side of the door while I was practically naked. I slipped the dress on, fumbling around with the zip on the back. I gnawed my lip, feeling like I wanted to cry with despair for perhaps no reason.

I felt a cold prickle on the back of my neck, and let out on involuntary shiver.

“Need a hand with that?” Xian asked quietly, his voice practically just a whisper as he breathed on to the back of my neck. I just nodded, not trusting my voice. I felt his cold hands brush my neck as he lifted my blonde hair into his hand, away from the zip. Slowly, as if teasing, he pulled the zip up all the way, and let my hair go. We stood like that for a few minutes; I was too afraid to turn around and face him, and he was probably savouring the moment.

His hand went around my waist, and he was tugging me from the room. He pushed me on the bed once in my room, and I was slightly bewildered. He grabbed a pair of my silver dolly shoes, and kneeled in front of me, putting them on. He glanced up at me, his emerald eyes blank, before concentrating on putting my shoes on.

I felt just like Cinderella, except I didn’t have a knight in shining armour.

Without another word, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me forcefully out of the room, grabbing my black coat just in case. He tugged me all the way down the stairs, and once at the bottom, he handed me the coat, which I gratefully slipped on before stepping out into the cold, and followed him out the door.

When on the doorstep, he shut the door quietly. I was about to say something, but he swept me up into his arms bridal style and before I knew it, the wind was rushing all around us. I looked up at him as he ran, only to look away the very second our eyes met – he was watching me. I resorted to putting my head on his shoulder to block out the blurring scene around us. I didn’t shut my eyes, just in case, so I stared at his white, exposed throat. I could see two dots on the side, the skin slightly pinched, a little more white than his actual skin colour – scars. Instinctively, I touched them lightly with the tip of my finger. I ran my finger down his throat, where more pairs of bite marks sat as if he’d been bitten many, many times.

However, I came across something as my eyes grazed over his throat. A kiss mark. It wasn’t your average bright red lipstick kiss, though I’m sure it once was. I touched it, expecting it to smudge under my finger, but it didn’t. I ran two fingers across it, and I suddenly felt the embedment of the kiss mark into his flesh, as if it had been burned on. I gasped a little, and I knew he noticed because out the corner of my eye I saw him glanced down at me, but I never looked up.

The silence between us was perhaps unbearable now. I wanted to break the silence, I wanted to say something. He helped me zip up my dress, and ever since, it had been silent and somewhat awkward. Why?!

“Don’t look,” he suddenly said. I looked up at him this time, and he was looking all around him. I noticed a tiny white building zoom past us, and I felt his muscles tense on his arms and shoulders, as if he were preparing himself.

“I said don’t look!” He snapped harshly. Instantly, I squeezed my eyes shut tight and buried my head in his neck again, breathing deeply. Inhaling his scent of pure, bittersweet lust… so good it could even draw ME in.

I suddenly felt as though we were falling. I heard Xian draw in a breath, and felt him bury his head in my hair, the excruciating falling feeling becoming overwhelming. The air around us was whirling upwards, and I knew there was no ground below our feet. I felt Xian’s grip pull me tighter to him, as if he were afraid of letting me go.

But he did let go of me. I let out a slight whimper, but before I could open my eyes, I slammed into the cold hard ground. I groaned loudly, a sharp pain shooting up my back and across my ribs and chest for the second time in one hour. I rolled over onto my side, and opened my eyes, gasping when I saw how close Xian was.

“Let me do the talking,” he mouthed noiselessly. I blinked once at him, slightly confused, but he just stood up and held his hand out for me to take. I took it once again, and he pulled me up and straight next to him, his arm wrapping around my waist tightly.

Protectively, almost.

I glanced around, but all I could see was just grass. Acres and acres of grass and hills overlapping one another. A little too green on this foggy, wet day. Xian went stiff at my side, and I felt his grip become tighter.

“Mr. Harryson,” a male’s voice purred behind us. “So nice to see you… Mm, and you brought a snack.”

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